Dead Frontier/Issue 119
This is Issue #119 of Dead Frontier, titled Hammer. ''This is the fifth issue in '''Volume 20.' Issue 119 - Hammer “Just don’t look, man. Don’t look,” Cole mutters as Adam sobs into his shoulder. Behind them, Chloe’s body lies, utterly unrecognizable. Conner decided to leave the blood-soaked sledgehammer sitting right next to her--just another of his devious measures. Cole pats Adam's back, struggling to keep his own wits together. The sounds, the blood, the scream: all of it is burned into their memory, and Cole finds himself squeezing his eyes shut to hold back tears that end up running down his cheeks anyway. “What the fuck, man…? He just--fucking--” Adam stutters as he pulls away from Cole and scoots toward the wall. He makes a half-hearted swinging motion with his arms. Cole turns his head and sees the lower half of Chloe’s body, but he doesn’t dare look up from there. He returns his look to Adam, who can’t hide his complete distress as he lets out a choking sob and covers his face with his palms. Around the room, everyone has relocated to the wall directly left of the door. There’s a strong sense of desperation, as everyone hopes that when they return, they’re not the next victim. Duke is particularly on edge; he sits in the corner, fists balled in his lap and eyes glued to the floor. Should’ve been him on the other end of that hammer, as far as he’s concerned. Daniel has his arm around a wide-eyed Farrah. He mutters something to make sure she’s okay, and she replies with a slow nod. He gives her a sympathetic sigh before rising to his feet. Someone needs to step up, and with most everyone in near hysterics, he takes up the responsibility. Eyes look up toward him, and he scratches his head in thought. “We need...to figure something out,” he says in a hushed tone. He doesn’t receive a response, so he decides to continue. “I know we’re all--freaked out here. We’re scared. I get it. But we can’t sit here.” He realizes his hands are moving around wildly as he speaks, so he stuffs them into his pockets. “We need to get out of here.” “Then what the fuck do you suggest, Dan?” Adam snaps at him, wiping a few tears from his face. “Go ahead--go against some psychopaths and get your fucking head bashed in, too.” “I’m looking for everybody’s input here,” Daniel says calmly. Grief and rage. They go hand in hand; he knows it’s not personal. “We’re dead, bro,” Duke mutters. Sudden hopelessness rises over him, and he lifts his head to glare at Daniel. “Gonna come back and fuckin’--” He cuts himself off and sets his jaw, letting his head hang low again. “Thinking we’re just gonna die isn’t gonna help us. At all,” Daniel says with rising conviction. “We need to think of something.” ---- Lienne stares down at the arrow jutting from her stomach. Her eyes roll back in her head, and Tora catches her before she can hit the ground. “Hunter!” Tora screams, and she does her best to keep Lienne upright. She hears the stomping of footsteps, and Hunter, blood spatter covering his face and knife, turns the corner. “Wha--” he starts, and his frantic eyes fall onto Lienne. “What the fuck happened?!” “Hurry up--get her inside.” He wants answers, but knows this probably isn’t the most appropriate time to get them. He reaches one arm under Lienne’s legs and the other under her back to lift her. An arrow whizzes between their heads, and he and Tora let out a small screech. Before another can fly, they turn the corner to the front of the house. Tora swings open the door and allows Hunter access with Lienne. As he sets her down on the couch to the surprised expressions of the others, Tora slams the door shut and twists the lock. "Lock all the doors, all the windows," she orders, but no one moves. "Go!" Dean, Cedric, and Jake zip away at her command, but Ivy stays petrified on the couch. "What happened to her?" Ivy asks. Tora rushes to Lienne's side and crouches down next to her. "Ivy, go help them," she says sternly, but Ivy doesn't move. "What happened?" Tora looks up. "Ivy." That's all it takes for Ivy to take one last look at Lienne and speed off behind Cedric, Dean, and Jake. "We've gotta take the damn thing out," Hunter says. "No." "What the hell do you mean no? She's got a fuckin' arrow in her stomach. I'm pretty sure that's not supposed to be there." "I need a kit--or something. Get me something." "I think we should probably deal with--" "Just do it!" she shouts at him. "If you want her to bleed to death, okay, I'll take the arrow out right now. Or, if you want her to live, find me the fucking kit and stop running your mouth." Expecting him to follow her demands without complaint, she turns her attention back to Lienne. He hesitates, then turns to the kitchen and begins searching through the cabinets. Tora mutters something to try and get Lienne to open her eyes; she mumbles something back in response and lets out a jarring cough. "Lienne? Honey, you're gonna be okay," Tora says. "Hunter!" "I've only got two hands! Jesus fucking Christ!" he shouts from the kitchen. He slams a bag onto the table and rips it open. He can't remember which one held the meds or medical supplies, and with each failed search his frustration grows. Finally, he sees that the bottom of this bag is filled with bottles of weird chemicals, pills, and rags. He grabs the entire bag and heads back into the living room. He tosses it onto the coffee table and Tora looks up at him. "That's all I found," he says. "You know how to use this stuff?" "No," Tora says, looking through the bag. She takes out whatever she can and lines everything up on the table. "Guess I'm gonna have to learn now." Hunter puts his hands on top of his head and looks down at Lienne; she's breathing, letting out a few periodic coughs, and her eyes are finally starting to open, wild and bloodshot. ---- "Jake, what's going on?" Ivy asks. She trails Jake as he goes to lock one of the hall windows. He peers out the glass cautiously; when he sees nothing, he covers it with the curtain. "I don't know," he says, and he hurries on to the next window. "Just stay c-calm, okay?" It looks like he's having a tough time trying to follow that advice himself, but he proceeds forward. The window at the end of the corridor is open slightly, letting in a quiet breeze. He slams it shut and locks it, but he swears he can hear a subtle groan. He lingers for just a second, and Ivy tugs on his arm nervously. He can see the silhouette of a sole infected in the darkness, making its way toward the window. Jake watches it in disgust, as Ivy continues to urge him to move. He's about to turn away when an arrow flies through the back of the infected's skull and it collapses to the ground. He flinches, and Ivy yelps. "Come on," he says, his voice rattling. He grabs her by the arm, but the glass suddenly shatters and they drop to the floor under the window. Shards of glass cover the ground under their feet. He pulls the shaking Ivy close and looks up, where he sees an arrow protruding from the wall across from them. ---- Dean and Cedric work on locking the windows in the upstairs master bedroom. Cedric slams the last window shut and twists the lock. He turns to see Dean pacing around the room with his arms crossed. “There’s someone out there,” Dean murmurs, and he runs a hand through his hair. “And...and everyone else is missing--what the hell is going on?” He looks at Cedric, almost appearing as if he wants some kind of explanation. “You think I know?” Cedric asks. He turns to the window and looks down. From here, he can’t see anything out of the ordinary. Trees, the empty road to the right, the usual infected roaming aimlessly. "We need to do something." "Like what? What's your master plan?" Cedric, not very appreciative of his tone, shoots him a scowl. "Why don't we figure out what to do about everyone else first?" Cedric says. "It's obviously not a fucking coincidence they're not back and some weird shit's going on here." "It's the middle of the fucking night; they're not coming back." "Then we go look for them." "What?" "Are we gonna let this fucker mess with us, or get out of here? And we're not leaving without them." “You want to go out there?!” Dean yells, and he immediately lowers his voice as he steps forward. "That's a death sentence." "The trucks are right there," Cedric counters. "It'll take two seconds: we get in, we drive off, and we hope they're still somewhere around the store. The longer we wait, harder it'll be to find them." "We? We?! No, no, no, I'm not going out there," Dean protests, and he returns to pacing. "I have a good feeling you'll have a better chance out there with me than in here." "And what makes you so sure?" The smallest of smiles forms on his face. Because, he'll be back in his element again, behind the wheel. "A few reasons," he says. ---- "Let's just kill them already," Vaughn suggests to Conner. They're out in the main area of the store, away from the storage room they've locked everyone else in. "Jack can't be back at the house by himself for this long." Conner sent Jack, the last member of their group, and his trusty crossbow to deal with the others left at the house. It's been a few hours, and he can't help but wonder how he's holding up. But Vaughn can tell, Conner has gotten himself too caught up in watching these people squirm. That girl was right: he's prolonging this longer than he should, and it can only come back to hurt them. "I've got my plans, don't worry," Conner says, placing a hand on Vaughn's over-sized shoulder. He trusts Conner. He's never done them wrong before. ---- "How long are we gonna fucking sit in here?" Duke says, still sitting in his same corner. "This is ridiculous." "That's the point," Cole says, and he sits up a little straighter. "That's why her body's still here; that's why the hammer's here. They know they're crazy, and they know this is fucked up. They just want to get to us any way they can. Don't let them." "So this isn't 'getting to you'? Did you not see what just happened--!" "Of course it is, but this is what they want. They had us all turning against each other already, and this is just the...demented icing on the cake. If we want out, we can't let them do that. That's what I'm trying to tell you." There's a long silence as his words sink in, and Adam shoots Cole a glance. He can tell, Cole's holding back as much of his feelings of grief as he can, but here he is, still sobbing. He can't say anything encouraging, or sensible, because he can't halt his hysterics. Just because she's gone, and he can't believe it. Dre and Mae, as much as it hurts him to say it, have left such a small mark on him with their absences it's borderline insignificant, especially when compared with the fact that he knew Chloe since the near beginning. Compared with the fact that she saved his life, and saved all their lives at the lab. But really, there is no comparison. ---- "I just need some information about you," Chloe says, a small clipboard in hand. She wears a pristine white lab coat, with the name 'Connors' printed on the right side. Adam sits on a hard hospital bed across from her, sweat beads popping up here and there on his face. Some Asian doctor came in here earlier, pestering him for answers that Adam refused to give. But this girl, her tone is more reassuring, as if answering all of her questions will only bring him good. He quickly assures himself that isn't the case, if she's technically one of the people holding him here. "Okay," he says weakly. "What's your name?" "Adam Dugall. D-U-G-A-L-L. Two L's." "Thank you. Birthday?" "January 29, 1989." "Twenty-three..." she mumbles as she writes the date down. "Mr. Dugall, could you please describe any of your past interactions with the infected?" He realizes now how every question she's asked seems forced, like she's a machine saying what someone else tells her. But her eyes give away something else--maybe regret and a bit of sympathy, but she's hard to read. "What do you mean?" he asks. "How often would you say you come in contact with infected?" "Maybe a...few times a week. Not often. I don't really...like them so...I keep my distance. As much as I can." "How many have you killed?" He swallows hard. "Only a few." "And after those few interactions, how would you say you feel afterwards?" "Like...physically?" "Sure. Do you...feel any different? Sick, maybe?" "Sick to my stomach, I guess," he says. "I don't really feel like I'm changing '''into' one of them, if that's what you mean. I just...don't like them. They look too much like you and me."'' That makes her hesitate a little, and that professional aura she's trying so hard to uphold falters some. She looks down at her clipboard and opens her mouth to ask another question, but he cuts her off. "What am I doing here?" he asks. She looks up. Stowe warned her she's the one that's supposed to be asking the questions. "That's confidential," she says. "I think I've got a right to know." "You don't want to know," she snaps, and she composes herself quickly. It's the first semblance of emotion he's seen from her. "I'm just doing my job. Please--just don't ask." "You're not like the other guy," Adam observes. "Dr. Ching or Choi or whatever." "He does his job a little differently than I do. That's it." "What's this job you keep talking about?" She pauses and clenches her fist around the pen in her hand. "Finding a cure...for this," she says. "And sometimes, it takes a few sacrifices to do that." She repeats Stowe's words verbatim, but she never knew it'd hurt so much to say them. "And I'm sorry. Thank you for your time." That regretful look in her eyes magnifies, and she's soon on the verge of tears. She gives Adam one last look before standing, clutching her clipboard at her side, and walking out the door before he can say another word. ---- Hunter can’t stop staring at the amazing amount of blood that’s stained the couch where Lienne lies. The arrows sits bloodied and crooked on the coffee table, and Tora uses rag upon bloodstained rag to stop the bleeding. It didn’t go as deep as she thought. She’d expected a near through-and-through, but the arrow stopped just a few inches in. She can’t even imagine what kind of scene she’d be looking at now if that wasn’t the case. Lienne seems to be aware of what’s happening; her eyes are open, although they look unhinged, conveying nothing but her utter shock. Tora assumes that’s why she’d been devoid of speech during this entire process, that she’s just overwhelmed by how quickly everything happened. She hopes that’s why, anyway, and that her silence isn’t just a precursor to something much, much worse. Tora continues to mutter soothing, reassuring words, which occasionally extract a weak nod from Lienne. In the hall directly behind the couch, Ivy is crouched down, watching. Seeing someone she knows in so much pain, it’s hard to comprehend, but her face stays blank and empty of any emotion as she tries to process this. But her body trembles, getting rid of any doubt that this is completely terrifying. “I-Ivy. Let’s g-go upstairs.” She’d nearly forgotten Jake was crouched next to her. He watches with the same fear she does, but his is more noticeable. Besides the constant shaking, his cheeks are wet, and his stutter is significantly more prominent. “You sh-shouldn’t l-look,” he advises, and he follows his own advice by turning his gaze to the floor. She tries to do the same, but her head ends up turning up again, toward Tora’s struggle with Lienne. “Think of something else.” She tries this, too, but her wandering mind soon returns to the problems at hand. Jake sees how hard it is for her to pull herself away from the scene, so he needs another plan of action. He grabs her by the shoulders and forces her to look at him. “You l-like to r-read. What’s your f-favorite book?” he asks, seemingly out of nowhere. She looks at him, confused, but his odd questions distracts her from Lienne for just a little. “I-I don’t know,” she says. “Y-you have to h-have a favorite b-book. Think.” Her wary expression contrasts from his, which has suddenly turned demanding, as if he’s not going to take ‘I don’t know’ as an answer. She doesn’t know why he’s asking this, why he cares, when she realizes her focus has finally been taken away from all of this craziness surrounding her. So she goes with it. “Harry Potter,” she says. “Which one?” “Uh--um, Sorcerer’s Stone.” “Why?” “B-because my mom, she used to read it to me before bed a-and she...she used to do the voices and stuff--the British accents. It was--it was her favorite one, too.” She’s lost in a memory all of a sudden, and Jake is surprised his plan worked at all. Until this is all over, he has to keep her distracted, somehow. “Who was your f-favorite character?” “Hermione,” she says without hesitation, and she squeezes her eyes shut against the sound of one of Lienne’s screams. “Why?” She can’t answer, as the tactic has begun to fail. He sighs and stands, lifting her to her feet, too. He gives her a tug on the arm, and after one last glance at Lienne, she follows him upstairs, where they sit in one of the corridors without windows. It doesn’t help, because she can still hear everything. ---- “What the fuck do you mean you’re leaving?” Hunter shouts at Cedric, who recently appeared from upstairs with Dean. Dean still lingers at the steps, still extremely wary of Cedric’s new plan. “Whoever the hell this is, maybe we can lead them away,” Cedric says, his voice a lot quieter than Hunter’s. “And have you noticed that no one’s come back yet?” “So you’re going to look for them?!” “Or we wait another eight hours ‘til morning, when they’re really dead. I’m not asking you to go, so chill out. Dean’s coming with me.” “Yeah, that should go pretty well. I’m sure he won’t shit his pants out there.” “Fuck you,” Dean says from the steps. “Fuck yourself. Jesus…” He runs his hands through his hair and looks again at Lienne, who’s quieted down. Cedric disappears into the kitchen for a few seconds and returns with a pair of keys and his jacket. He slips it on and beckons Dean with a nod of his head. Dean does an unconscious check of the holster at his side and follows Cedric to the door, where they both halt. Cedric freezes with his hand on the doorknob, and turns to whisper something to Dean. “Don’t hesitate. Just get to the truck.” Dean nods and quickly wipes some sweat from his forehead, which causes Cedric sigh. He opens the door, and the truck is in view immediately, just a few meters away. Cedric reaches the driver’s seat easily, but Dean, forced to go around the front to reach the passenger seat, takes a little longer. There’s some sudden rustling in the woods, and he swears he can hear some kind of gasp. As he opens the door, he ducks down, another one of those arrows shooting over the car. Cedric has already driven off by the time Dean can close his door, and he falls back in the seat with a hand to his chest. The car suddenly stutters and comes to brief stop before Cedric presses hard on the gas again. He looks out the rearview mirror and sees the faint outline of a thin figure, crossbow clutched in hand. Must’ve got the back tire. ---- “Give it ten more minutes,” Conner says, sitting on a toppled over shelf. He has in his hand a can of beans, and he scarfs down the contents greedily, not offering any to Vaughn or the girl--Olivia. They look at him with some distaste, but Conner doesn’t notice. “Then we’ll move the body.” “I’m telling you, we need to speed this up,” Vaughn says. He cracks his knuckles obnoxiously. “We can’t half-ass this if the lesson’s gonna stick,” Conner replies. “That’s why we’re here in the first place; that’s why Jack’s back at the house.” “He wasn’t ready for a job on his own,” Olivia says, her voice near a whisper. “He has to learn sometime. He’ll do fine, he’s a good shot with that bow.” “He’s unstable.” “We’re all unstable.” “He’s different. He gets too caught up in the moment. I don’t want him to mess up.” She gives him a tentative look, then quickly averts her eyes downward. “He’ll do fine,” Conner repeats, and they fall into a quiet few minutes as Conner finishes his meal. As he eats, he suddenly feels doubtful--and he hates that feeling. He has faith in Jack, but suddenly, that faith starts to dwindle just a little. Conner estimates there’s about two minutes left until he can finally remove that girl’s body and free them from their torment, just for a little while. He taps his foot in a familiar beat, and glares at Vaughn whenever he lets out a frustrated sigh. “Two minutes, V. Don’t get your panties balled up,” Conner says to him, and Vaughn offers him a forced grin. They fall into another thirty seconds of silence that’s soon broken by the sound of a car stopping outside. Conner jumps to his feet with Olivia and Vaughn. They peer out the front window, their bodies illuminated by headlights that are soon shut off as the sound of a car engine ceases. “Oh, fuck,” Conner mutters, and he crushes the can in his hand. Category:Dead Frontier Category:Dead Frontier Issues Category:Issues Category:Walkerbait22's Stories